A curse upon Mr. Pikey Scum for daring to cross the beloved and respected Mr. Xoggoth.
We have put him in his Box with a penny (of Domitian's time) over each eye.
Properly he should only need one, to pay the ferryman, and in his mouth where the pocketless Ancients carried their small change, but autres temps autres moeurs, he will have a penny spare for a mud pie when he gets there.
Asphodels need sun and dry soil; the fields of yellow flowers must be in Elysium.
Hades is clammy and cold. The shades weave baskets from reeds or make water cups from the sticky river mud.
Pour them a blood offering and they speak of their lives in that world, and of their time in this. Mind continues: the afterlife is not a dream.
Gore Vidal said about regret, "Never turn down an offer of money or sex". From now on, I won't.